


A Winter's Day

by Ainulinde



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Baby Durins, Durin Family Angst, Durin Family Feels, Family Bonding, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Poverty, Uncle Thorin, winter is coming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10079483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ainulinde/pseuds/Ainulinde
Summary: Thorin is weary. So weary. Life in exile means life in poverty, days of endless work and long, sleepless nights. And winter is coming to smother them with snow and Thorin sees no relief in sight.Can Fili and Kili change his mind?Oneshot written for lucife56 who drew that amazing fanart for me (Name Me, chapter 10) -





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucife56](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucife56/gifts).



 

He was meant to lift axes, not hammers.

He was meant to sweat from training, not the forge. He was meant to rule in decadence, not labor for meager coins. He was not meant to be bothered by the approach of winter.

And yet, there he stood, a hammer tied to his belt, the back of his shirt soaked with sweat, his limbs frozen, his fist clutching his pay. Thorin looked up to the sky and glowered, challenging the gray clouds scowling back. Winter has come to pound on his weather-weary door and smother the fields with his coat of snow. Must be an elf, the bastard.

Thorin sighed, donned his coat – already threadbare by now – and pushed himself to climb back home. Home. Laughable concept. The semi-precious metal in his hand bit into his skin as he tightened his grip. This should be enough for… something. Market prices still baffled him, so he let Dis manage the household.

A few men nodded his way. Thorin nodded back. He continued his climb, thanking Mahal for strong, dwarven made boots. Once, he liked the cold season. Another laughable concept, that. People traveled less in the winter, fought less, spent less – no horseshoes for him to fix, pots to make, swords to forge. And everything was in short supply and expensive. And it was bloody cold. Thorin scoffed at the wind that weaved beads of snow into his hair and beard. Let her try. He sold all his finery long ago.

Mother would sing songs, comes the winter, and the cooks would bake deep fried sweets coated with honey and jam – _stop it,_ his mind hissed.

It was so… white. The earth sparkled, bejeweled with water crystals. Thorin paused for a moment, his breath clouding around his mouth. What would he tell Dis when he got home? What excuse could he give her? A young widow trying to raise two sons, trying to rely on a brother incapable of providing for her. Her king who, after a long day’s work, couldn’t scrape more than a fistful of coins.

And winter has –

“Uncle!”

Something crashed into his boots.

Thorin, frowning, snapped from his melancholic reverie and looked down.

A blob of white hair and dark, brown eyes looked back. “’ello!”

Thorin bent down and lifted the small dwarfling from the snow. “Kili,” he greeted, “what are you doing?”

“Waiting for you!” Kili scowled at Thorin’s hand that tried to smack the snow from Kili’s clothes. “I saw you first!”

“Because you didn’t climb as high,” a sullen voice spoke from Thorin’s midriff. “Cheater.”

Kili stuck his tongue out, then used the momentary distraction to climb onto Thorin’s shoulders.

“I’m the tallest!” he declared, squealing.

Thorin sighed, fighting and losing to the smile that toyed with his lips. He ruffled Fili’s hair, prying the snow from the golden locks. “Let’s go home. Can’t have you getting sick.”

“I’m not sick!” declared Fili.

“I’m not sick too!” Kili shouted, swinging his legs and kicking Thorin in the process.

Thorin grabbed his legs, calming him, then offered his other hand to Fili. The boy took it, yet his smile had a watery edge to it. He missed his father. Thorin did not blame him. He missed his father too, sometimes. He squeezed the young dwarf’s hand.

Fili, in response, held Thorin’s hand with both of his.

Kili, as usual, was oblivious. “After we get home, can we play?” His tiny hands gripped Thorin’s braids and pulled.

Thorin winced. “I’m sorry, Kili, I need to work.”

“You always work,” Fili protested.

“Yes! You always work work work!”

Thorin could hear Kili’s pout in his words. He could hear Fili’s loneliness. He also knew he had his duties. ”I know, boys. I know. But winter is already here, so I must–“

“Sled!” Kili finished his sentence for him.

“…Sled?” Thorin didn’t follow.

Fili shivered and walked closer to Thorin. “Father said he’d make us sleds and take us to ride down the mountain.”

“- and Mommy said she’d teach us to ice-skate! And make snow birds! And snow-dwarves!”

“I see,” Thorin muttered. He looked at the white material and saw death, but the boys… the boys saw an adventure. He shook his head, smiling slightly at Kili’s giggle. What if they caught a cold? He wasn’t sure they could afford medicine.

“Will you take us? I wanna go! I’ll be good,” Kili vowed, then kicked his legs excitedly.

Thorin swallowed his grimace.

Fili looked away. “It’s fine. You don’t have to.”

“Fili-“

“There you are!”

Thorin looked up to find Dis, hands on hips and eyebrow cocked. She smiled. “I thought you lost your way in the snow.”

“We found him!” Kili declared. “I found him first!”

Fili scowled. “I climbed higher!”

“But I saw him first!”

“But-“

“Boys!” Thorin snapped. “Go to your mother.” He lowered Kili back to the ground.

The boy took his older brother’s hand and ran inside. Their expressions were disappointed, almost hurt.

Thorin grumbled his frustration. He walked to his sister, whose glare melted when she saw his expression. Thorin opened his mouth, closed it, then offered her his pay.

Dis’ eyes sought his, then shifted to glance at the fistful of coins.

Her darkened expression burned like shame in Thorin’s veins. “I’ll go again tomorrow.”

Dis looked up, eyes hooded and brow furrowed. “Thorin – “

“I’ll ask around, maybe someone needs something… fixed. Something. I’ll – “

“Thorin – “

“ – We need to save for the winter – “

“Thorin!” Dis stepped forward, cupping his cheeks. “You look dreadful.”

“Why thank you,” he grumbled.

She scowled. “You know what I mean. You need to rest.”

Thorin exhaled. “You know I cannot. Not until I will be certain you are well provided for.”

Dis stood stiff, eyes boring into him. Then she diverted her eyes, expression empty. “I made soup.”

He shook his head. “I must go and speak with Balin. Maybe he’s heard news of Father – “

“Eat with the boys, Thorin. Stay with them.” Her voice trembled, but her eyes were iron.

“Dis – “

“Thorin,” she warned.

“Uncle?”

Thorin felt a small hand tugging on his sleeve. He looked down to find Kili looking up at him, eyes wide and uncertain, then turned around to find Fili looking at him, jaw clenched, holding two bowls of soup in his hands. Thorin bowed down and picked up the small dwarfling.

Kili immediately wrapped his hands around Thorin’s neck, his hold almost crushing. 

“How’s Mother’s soup?” he asked, trying to erase the unease from the dwarfling's features.

Kili looked up. He smiled. “It smells good! We waited for you.”

“Ah. Let’s eat by the fire. Did you change your clothes?”

The dwarfling’s smile widened. “Yes! Fili helped me!”

Thorin smiled too. He walked toward the kitchen and Fili, then paused to ruffle the dwarfling’s golden locks. “Thank you, Fili. Did you change yours?”

The boy nodded. “Dad said that you can’t stay with wet clothes in the winter.” He tugged on Thorin’s coat. “Your clothes are wet.”

“I’ll change them later. Right now, I’m ready to eat and get warm by the fire. What do you think?”

“I’m sitting on Uncle!” Kili demanded.

Thorin stared sternly at those large, dark eyes. “Last time, you spilled soup on me.”

Kili cowered slightly. “I’ll be careful. Promise!” He looked up, eyes large and too goddamn cute.

Thorin sighed. He sat in the large armchair and drew Kili to his side. After giving him the bowl Fili held, he reached and grabbed Fili, sitting him on his other thigh.

“I can sit by myself,” Fili protested. “I’m a grown up!”

“I know,” Thorin assured him. “I’m using you to dry my clothes.”

Fili stuck his tongue out but stopped wriggling. He leaned against Thorin’s side and covered himself with Thorin’s coat.

Thorin accepted the bowl of soup Dis offered him with a gracious nod. He pulled the boys closer, chuckling when Kili rubbed his sticky face against his beard.

“When do I get a beard like yours?”

“You don’t get a beard, you grow it,” Fili corrected him, showing off his sideburns proudly.

Kili persisted. “When do I grow up?”

“When you are older, it will grow.” Thorin swallowed a spoonful of soup, then suffered Kili’s exploring fingers in silence. He knew this was a bad idea.

“Like Fili’s?” Kili persisted.

“Yes, like Fili’s. Eat your soup.”

“I almost finished mine,” Fili said, displaying his half empty bowl.

“I’ll finish first!” Kili declared, then dropped the spoon on Thorin’s pants, picked up the bowl, and attempted to drink it all in one go.

Fili refused to be beaten and did the same.

Thorin knew he could not turn down the challenge and downed his bowl, spoon and manners be damned.

“Thorin!” A wooden spoon smacked the back of his head and made him choke on the last slice of beef. “Manners!”

Thorin coughed, then chewed the meat properly, swallowed, and growled, “Dis, I couldn’t lose to – “

“But you did lose!” Fili stifled a chuckle.

Kili’s eyes widened as he snorted. “Yes! Uncle lost!” He pointed gleefully to the few drops of soup that still glistened at the bottom of the bowl. Then the two boys raised their empty bowls for inspection.

Thorin, grumbling, finished his soup and collected the bowls and spoons – which dirtied his pants, again – and sighed. “Fine. You win. What do you want?”

“A story!” Fili shouted.

“Yes! A story!” Kili’s eyes sparkled.

Fili’s eyes sparkled too. Thorin knew he could not refuse those eyes, not when he saw them too often darkened with grief. He gave the bowls to Dis, who smiled at him, and nodded. “Fine. Fili’s pick.”

The dwarfling’s smile widened. “I want the one about that one time that you lost to Mom in an axe fight.”

Kili nodded so enthusiastically his hair whipped Thorin’s face. “Yeah! I like that story!”

“Your mother won because she _cheated_ ,” Thorin hissed through tight lips.

“I heard that!” Dis shouted from the other room. “Ready to defeat you again when you are, big brother!”

Thorin growled, “The sun was in my eyes, and my axe was slippery – “

Dis leaned through the doorway. “Oh, excuses, excuses! I won fair and square, and you know it!”

“You rubbed butter on my axe handle!”

“Prove it!”

“Mom!” Fili interfered. “The story!”

Then two pairs of eyes shining with mirth focused on Thorin and Thorin… Thorin rolled his eyes. “So one day, your beloved mother…”

He told them the story. After that, he told them about the one time Dwalin was chased by a monster that turned out to be a large rabbit, and that time he outrode Dis and Dwalin (and Frerin, but he didn’t mention him) and that time…

The heat from the fire and the boys cuddling against melted the frost and the fatigue from his bones. The old armchair was soft and comforting. It molded itself to sooth Thorin’s aching muscles and support his weary head. His eyelids, heavy and burdened, surrendered with ease, lulled to sleep by the boys’ rhythmic breathing. Thorin took a deep breath, inhaling soup and snow and the two boys – his two boys – and fell asleep.

* * *

 

It was dark when he snapped awake.

Thorin blinked at the pre-dawn blackness, staring blankly at the unfamiliar ceiling. His back ached, and his body felt uncommonly heavy. It took him a couple of moments to realize he was sitting, and a moment longer to realize the added weight was actually two warm, small bodies, pressed against him. And a thick woolen blanket that knew better days that wasn’t there the day before. The day before. Huh.

It took Thorin a while to untangle himself from the two dwarflings (the peaceful, calm look on their faces was strange, unfamiliar. Thorin had to tear his eyes away from the sweet sight). The room was distinctively colder – one look informed him that the fire had died during the night. A short debate whether to light a new one ensued but was quickly defeated when Kili’s body betrayed a small shiver. Thorin bent, picked up three logs, and lit a new fire.

It seemed he had a day of wood-chopping ahead of him. The pile before him would not do. Thorin scowled, squared his shoulders, and picked up his axe and hammer. He should go to town, man the smithy, then maybe leave early, chop a tree, then…

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Dis,” Thorin greeted. His stomach tightened, but he did not mention his hunger. “Good morning. Work.”

“Eloquent,” the dwarrowdam criticized, then sighed. She looked old, older than he remembered. “Take a break.”

Thorin exhaled in frustration. “Dis, you cannot possibly think we are well off enough for a holiday.”

“Not a holiday,” she chastised. “Just one day. For the boys, Thorin,” she added, hand on his arm, “they miss you. They miss their father. They need… someone.”

“I cannot be their father, Dis.”

“Of course you can’t,” she snapped, then looked away, voice thick. “They need their uncle.”

Thorin looked down at her worn features. He glanced at his axe, just as weary. He closed his eyes.

“Thorin…” A hand on his cheek.

He opened his eyes. “You know I could never deny you anything.”

A dry chuckle. “Of course I know. I am your youngest sister, after all.”

“My only sister,” he added, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Yes.” She released him. “Now come and have some breakfast. You skip meals too often, and I will not stand for my brother to be a _skinny_ dwarf.” She shivered.

Thorin scoffed. Then a smile broke through his expression. He nodded to himself, resolute. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he declared, then left before she could protest.

It has been a few years, but he still remembered how to make a sled, right?

* * *

 

Thorin trudged through the snow. Yes. He still got it. The chopping wood part, that is. Without Bifur, he would have been lost. It may have taken more than an hour. He entered the house, fingers frozen from the cold, but still securing the two wooden sleds in a tight grip.

“…Doesn’t like us anymore? He’s… I don’t understand…”

That was Fili’s voice. Thorin paused at the doorway, then shook his mane. He did not labor for hours to be another disappointment. Gritting his teeth, he walked into the kitchen.

Dis sighed. “Fili, you should – oh! Thorin!”

The boys turned – Kili’s eyes were red and Fili’s mutinous – to stare at him. The hurt look slowly melted from their faces and was replaced by uncertain awe.

Thorin cleared his throat. “Who… who wants to go sledding?” He held out the sleds, then placed them on the table. He cleared his throat again.

“For us?” Fili stammered, touching one of the sleds reverently.

“Yes,” Thorin confirmed. “I made them this morning.”

“For real?” Kili grabbed one, hugging it to his chest. “We can keep them?”

“Yes.” Thorin ruffled the messy black locks. “They are yours.” He could not help but smile at the twinkling of excitement that lit up their eyes. “I met Gloin on my way here. We can go sledding with him and his son – “

Two young, excited dwarflings jumped, hollered, “Uncle!” as their battle cry, and tackled him to the floor.

His head knew better days.

But soon his hands were filled with two boys – his two boys – he grimaced when they jumped on him, but that joyful laughter and those bright, toothy smiles, and happy cries of victory…

Thorin chuckled. He couldn’t help but chuckle. He sat up, hugging the boys to him – who seemed to have a grand time trying to stand on him and tackle him to the floor (again) at the same time –

Kili wrapped his hands around Thorin’s neck and declared, “This is going to be the best winter ever!”

And Fili, hugging Thorin’s arm with all his might, nodded. “Yeah. It’s going to be fun.” And he smiled, eyes shining and cheeks reddening and if Thorin knew making two sleds would return the light to Fili’s eyes, he would have turned the entire forest into an army of sleds by now.

“Yes,” he agreed, almost surprised at the warmth that seeped through him. He held their faces in his hands, caressing the still smooth cheeks, then hugged them to his chest. “It will be.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! If you did, please comment <3


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